


Defeating Voldemort: The Last Whorecrux

by hogwartsbabes97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, Drunk Dumbledore, Friendship, Gay Dumbledore - Freeform, Gen, Horcrux Hunting, Humor, Multi, Parody, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsbabes97/pseuds/hogwartsbabes97
Summary: Albus Dumbledore mistakes a sex toy for a horcrux. Together, Dumbledore and a reluctant Severus Snape must save the wizarding world through harnessing the power of kinkiness and budding friendship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is intended to be outrageous and lewd. I would like to express my sincerest apologies to JKR for defiling her wholesome characters and story line. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a review or favourite if you liked it. I would love to hear from you.

Severus Snape was enjoying one final night of peace before the students arrived at Hogwarts. This night was particularly special as Dumbledore had released him from his Order duties and encouraged him to have full reign of the castle while he attended a muggle club. Every year Dumbledore insisted on clubbing and getting completely sloshed as a tradition to welcome in the new school year. It was a great school secret that Dumbledore made his welcoming speech while still buzzed from the evening before. During his more eccentric speeches, Snape suspected that muggle drugs were involved. In fact, Snape had once confiscated a sheet of paper thin tablets with smiley faces printed on them from a balled up sock of Dumbledore’s to test in his lab. He had merely intended to test the properties of the muggle drug, but had instead ended up spending the evening barricading himself under his desk while he watched in fear as his pickled specimens dislodged their cork stoppers and had a dance party on the countertops.

There would be no nonsense tonight. With nobody in the castle, Snape wanted to take advantage of the rare moment of privacy and do what he loved most. After casting several wards to ensure Snape would be alerted to the slightest disturbance, he transfigured his teaching robes into a plush and fluffy bathrobe. He loaded a shower caddy up with a loofa, a bottle of raspberry truffle wine, and a trashy novel he had picked up at a muggle gas station. Feeling a bit out of character, Snape entered into stealth mode as he skulked in the shadows making his way to the prefect girl’s lavatory. Although he could use the staff facilities, the prefect’s lavatory was the only place in the castle whose bath produced thick frothy lavender scented suds. Obviously Snape wasn’t interested in the aesthetics of a bubble bath, he was purely interested in the medicinal and healing properties of lavender.

Mid-soak Snape felt a tingling as one of his wards was breached. Seconds later Dumbledore’s patronus appeared, obscured by the steam of his bath.

“Severus, I’m sorry to disturb your evening but you need to report to the Cockpit immediately. Central London. It is matter of urgent importance. You will find me disillusioned by the mechanical bull.”


	2. Chapter 2

Snape stepped into the dank mist of Knockturn Alley, his foot narrowly missing an alarmingly chunky, yellow pile of vomit, no doubt left by wild partygoers.

_Of course Dumbledore was here_ , Snape thought, sneering at the memory of the great Albus Dumbledore reduced to a fool singing karaoke at this time last year. This memory was, of course, much less amusing given that Dumbledore’s antics were the very reason he was no longer enjoying a soak in the tub and reading _How to Discipline your Vampire_.

His hastily-donned black cloak swirled around him as he stormed through the alleyway, being careful not to stride through any other vile puddles adorning the path. Upon reaching the entrance to Muggle London, Snape adjusted his black turtleneck, pulling it to impossible heights as a sort of frumpy armour against the world. With a sigh he stepped into the street and turned left, heading towards the muggle club that Dumbledore mentioned in his missive.

As he walked through the busy crowds lining the street, Snape noticed the attire of the other partygoers, the very tiny, neon, spandex attire, which had him sticking out like a sore thumb. Being sequestered in the Scottish Highlands had left Snape slightly disjointed from the realities of the rest of the world. Upon leaving he had donned his woolly, black ensemble in the hopes of retaining a low profile. Unfortunately, he had not considered the fact that it was _August_ and England was experiencing some particularly balmy weather. This led to some gawking from the crowds. Snape even received a few catcalls of: “Oi, look at that great black bat,” and “Bit too early for a costume party, mate.” One man had even referred to him as a “Daddy,” although Snape was quite certain he had not fathered any offspring.

“Dunderheads,” Snape muttered under his breath. He was quite out of his depth here, as his own teenage years had been spent brooding in solitude. Candy bracelets, pacifiers, and glow sticks were foreign to him and he couldn’t understand their appeal as accessories.

Snape finally stepped into line at the Cockpit, feeling more out of place than he had when he danced with Minerva McGonagall at the Yule Ball. A line of men stretched before him, clad in all manners of neon and leather, with various glowing accessories and some more daring pieces...

_Were those blue nipple clamps?_ Snape’s eyes widened. _What kind of place had Dumbledore brought him to?_

Snape shifted in line, slowly making his way to the front. Finally, he stood in front of the bouncer.

“Hello, uh, I would like to be permitted entrance,” Snape strained, plastering on a fake smile.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place honey,” teased the bouncer, a tall broad and serious looking man who spoke with an unexpectedly high pitched voice.

Having already clearly fucked up the first rule of espionage 101, blend into the environment, Snape decided to ditch his muggle facade and placed a wandless confundus charm on the bouncer before billowing through the club entrance.


	3. Chapter 3

Green spell fire shot out from different angles of the room, seemingly in beat with a strange electronic ticking. Snape had never seen this type of spell casting and after entering the club had immediately dropped to the floor and cast a shielding charm.

_What the bloody fuck!_ Snape watched with astonishment as multiple beams of the killing curse reflected off his person without any effect. Several muggles had gathered around giving him concerned looks as he flattened himself out on the floor and attempted to crawl behind the safety of the bar. They clearly had no idea the danger they were in.

“Oi! You down on the floor! Are you ok?”

“Should I call a medic?”

The hushed voices around him were suddenly silenced by the appearance of Dumbledore who was dressed in tight golden bike shorts and a red mesh tank top. From his view on the floor Snape could make out the way Dumbledore’s wrinkled skin was being aggressively pushed out the bottom of his shorts. He suppressed a gag.

“Thank you for your concern gentlemen, but I think all this man needs is a drink and a glow stick!” bellowed Dumbledore heartily as he crouched down and pulled Snape to his feet.

Leaning so close to Snape that his silver chest hair poked out of his mesh top and invaded Snape’s cloak, Dumbledore whispered: “Never mind the lasers Severus, the muggles use them for dancing. An unfortunate colour, that’s all.” Dumbledore gently patted Snape on the back like a reassuring parent.

“Why have you summoned me here?” Snape asked with his typical level two sneer.

“Did you know they have a drink called a lemon drop?” Dumbledore commented casually.

“Yes, and it appears you have had too many of them if you are calling me here over such nonsense.”

A sobering look passed over Dumbledore’s face as he steered Snape towards the restroom. “I believe I have detected the presence of Tom Riddle’s soul Severus.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Snape blankly. “Here of all places? In a muggle bar? You really have had too much to drink.”

Snape grabbed Dumbledore’s arm ready to disapparate to Hogwarts, tuck Dumbledore into bed and let him sleep off this madness. Perhaps Dumbledore had enough to drink that he would not remember this sham entirely. Perhaps Snape would slip something into Dumbledore’s morning tea to make him forget. Instead, he found Dumbledore’s magic forcing him into the restroom.

“If you won’t believe me look for yourself! I would have to be a fool not to recognize the sign!”

Snape felt the wave of a silencing spell fall over the room as Dumbledore’s intense gaze changed to one of sadness.

“I am a weak man Severus. I believe I have found the last hallow and I cannot resist its pull. You must secure it for me and we can destroy it.”

“Explain yourself,” Severus spat in disbelief.

The intensity returned to Dumbledore’s eyes and his speech became pressured as he grandly announced: “The resurrection stone, hidden in Marvolo Gaunt’s ring! A heirloom defiled by Tom. I can feel his presence, it is a dark object indeed.”

Dumbledore’s arms gestured wildly towards a bathroom stall.

_Oh for fucks sake._ Kicking open the bathroom stall Snape stared down the cubicle daring the Dark Lord to materialize before him. Instead, he was met by the site of a dingy off white toilet, the lid greased to prevent muggles from snorting illicit drugs. There was a mysterious hole connecting the two stalls that he tried not to dwell on. A few centimetres from the toilet sitting in a puddle of unidentified liquid was a large black ribbed ring. The ring was so wide it couldn’t possibly fit anyone’s finger. In fact, looking closer at the ring it almost looked like…

_THIS HAS TO BE SOME KIND OF CRUEL JOKE! Had Dumbledore truly mistaken a cock ring to be the legendary holder of the resurrection stone and the Dark Lord’s soul? Even worse was the embarrassing thought that he would now have to explain this mishap to Dumbledore. Or perhaps playing into the old meddlers delusion would allow him to return to his bath sooner._

Putting on a grave face Snape turned towards Dumbledore.

“I believe I understand the ring’s defenses and I can destroy it.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore hiccupped. He looked at Snape expectantly.

_Time for some Gryffindor theatrics,_ thought Snape cynically. With a flourish of his wand he raised the ring in the air as he pondered what special effects would best satisfy Dumbledore. With a resigned sigh, Snape transfigured the ring into a bundle of small coiling snakes. He heard Dumbledore gasp and knew he was on the right track.

_Now for the final touch._ Snape mentally locked away his last shred of dignity and began chanting. He arched his back severely and with a final jab of his wand vanished the snakes into an explosion of black smoke. The ring landed with a gentle plop in the toilet. Hopefully he could flush it before Dumbledore tried to fish it out.

“Headmaster, I believe I am no longer needed here.”

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and before Snape could stop him, he summoned the ring out of the toilet and into his bare hands. Ignoring Snape’s look of disgust, Dumbledore gently wrapped the ring in a scrap of toilet paper and tucked the ring into his pocketless shorts.

_Sod it all to hell,_ thought Snape before disapparating back to Hogwarts.


	4. Chapter 4

The sorting ceremony and feast progressed smoothly. Dumbledore had reverted back to his usual cryptic wise old wizard act, and he played his part so convincingly that Snape was tempted to believe that the events of the previous evening had not happened. It was not until Snape witnessed Dumbledore dry heave at the offer of a goblet of mead that his fantasy of having hit his head on the bathtub and hallucinated the entire evening was shattered. He would have to start planning Dumbledore’s obilivation before the inevitable happened. Snape would be damned if he had to play the part of some kind of kinky sex ed teacher in order to convince Dumbledore that the ring was innocuous.

As soon as the dinner plates vanished Snape swept out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons. He had fully expected to find a note from Dumbledore requesting a meeting, but his quarters were suspiciously undisturbed. It appeared that Dumbledore was keeping quiet about the incident. Hopefully out of deep shame and embarrassment. That suited Snape perfectly and he filed the incident away as future blackmail material.

The fateful day came two months later. Snape was halfway through his evening skin care routine when Dumbledore’s patronus entered through the bathroom mirror.

“Severus, I require your assistance in my office immediately”

_Typical Albus with his terrible fucking timing,_ thought Snape as he studied his appearance in the mirror. His clay mask needed to sit for at least another fifteen minutes to have any therapeutic effect. Even more pressing, he had a time sensitive potion brewing in his lab. Two rose and nettle infused batches of shea butter were underway, one for his personal stores, and one to sell under the proxy of a discrete seventh year Slytherin student. His skin care products were legendary amongst Hogwarts girls and he was making an easy £50 a cauldron.

_This better be important,_ thought Snape bitterly. Vanishing his clay mask and placing a stasis spell over his potions, Snape was on his way to a spectacular tantrum. Casting one final reproachful look at his pores in the mirror, Snape exited the bathroom and strode into the floo.

Upon arrival, Dumbledore was looking thoughtfully out the window of his study, one hand stroking his phoenix and the other hand obscured awkwardly in his robes.

“Headmaster, you wished to see me?”

“Yes Severus, sit, have a lemon drop. We need to have a difficult conversation. I can no longer delay the inevitable.”

Rather used to these dramatic and infuriatingly vague statements Snape took a seat without comment. Dumbledore sank into his chair across from him and to Snape’s horror withdrew the cock ring from the depths of his desk drawer and placed it delicately in front of him.

“You recognize this,” stated Dumbledore blandly.

“Unfortunately,” retorted Snape who emphasized every syllable with a hiss.

“Tom’s curse was stronger than either of us could have anticipated. I could not resist the power the ring offered. I wore it and have been cursed by dark magic beyond my comprehension. Severus, I do not fear death, but I must ask too much of you once again. I think we may be able to slow the spread of the curse with your expertise.”

_He wore the ring? The presumably used cock ring that he picked up off a dirty muggle bar floor and then doused in toilet water? Please Merlin let Dumbledore have only worn the ring on his finger, don’t led the old coot show me his pecker or I might not survive._

“Very well,” drawled Snape indifferently as he prepared himself to receive years of undoable mental trauma.

Dumbledore withdraw his hand from his robe and Snape breathed a sigh of relief, only to receive the equivalent of a slap in the face as Dumbledore also began unfastening his robes. Snape immediately turned away from him just in time to hear his heavy pleated lavender robes fall to the ground.

“Severus,” began Dumbledore in a surprised and amused tone. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed? I thought you understood the nature of this curse.”

“And I thought you were oblivious to the nature of that... thing,” Snape spat as he gestured towards the ring. Keeping his eyes firmly closed and his back to Dumbledore he continued. “Are you telling me this whole time you knew that it was not an ordinary ring? That you knew this and you wore it on your… on your…”

“My penis. Yes Severus,” supplied Dumbledore with the same note of amusement.

“You knew it was a cock ring and yet you also were convinced that it was a Slytherin heirloom and horcrux to the Dark Lord! I think you must still be drunk!”

“I would think the appeal of this item to both Salazar and Tom would be quite obvious.”

“I can’t possibly see how it would be obvious!”

“Severus, it is well known that the greatest wizards of all time were also the kinkiest,” replied Dumbledore calmly.

“I have never heard such drivel!” yelled Snape, bits of spittle spraying onto his robes.

A sudden uproar from the portraits in Dumbledore’s office pulled Snape out of his disbelief and anger.

“Drivel?! The correlation between kinkiness and strength is sacred!” scolded a medieval headmistress who brandished a metal studded paddle threateningly.

“Godric Gryffindor could fit an entire grapefruit in his anus! That is no coincidence!” yelled another.

“Sir Nicholas was actually nearly beheaded in an autoerotic asphyxiation accident,” nodded another in agreement.

Tying his robes around his waist Dumbledore approached Snape and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Severus, surely you knew,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. “You yourself are a powerful wizard, surely you…”

Before he could continue Snape cut him off. “It’s none of your business,” he replied mortified. An uncharacteristic blush began creeping from his neck up to his cheeks. Quickly regaining his composure, Snape straightened his robes and replied “I find my patience has run out. Enjoy your muggle STD,” icily before striding out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

“Thank you for seeing me at such a late hour Poppy,” remarked Dumbledore as his legs crinkled against the paper of Madam Pomfrey’s examination table.

“Of course Headmaster, why don’t you begin with telling me what has brought you to see me?” replied Pomfrey curtly, who despite it being well past midnight had donned a freshly starched nursing apron with a muggle stethoscope tucked into one of its numerous pockets.

“What can you tell me about muggle STDs?” asked Dumbledore confidently without any hint of the teenage awkwardness Pomfrey was used to.

“Muggle STDs,” remarked Pomfrey with disdain at the term, “affect witches and wizards the same way they affect muggles. It's a myth that witches and wizards are immune to such diseases. It's only that the incidence rate is much lower in witches and wizards since we are more likely to engage with our own people and have the ability to perform superior barrier charms.” Softening her voice Pomfrey continued, “But Headmaster, I can sense this is not the information you are looking for. Do you have specific concerns?”

“Severus suggested I may have acquired a muggle STD and I am afraid he is correct,” replied Dumbledore gravely as he gingerly folded his hands over his lap.  

“Have you had unprotected sexual intercourse with Severus?” asked Pomfrey without judgement.

“Oh no, you misunderstand me. Unfortunately, I cannot divulge the exact circumstances through which I contracted the disease. Merely, it has come from a dark object,” replied Dumbledore mysteriously.

“A dark object? What do you mean by that?” A look of understanding flashed across Pomfrey’s face before she smiled kindly and asked “Are you talking about a sex toy?”

Dumbledore laughed heartily. “You know me too well it seems.”

“Alright then, let’s see what we are dealing with.”

A few minutes, one urinalysis spell, and the reveal of a monstrous pumpkin juice colour rash later led to the diagnosis of syphilis.

“This is highly unusual Headmaster,” announced Pomfrey as she studied the weave of diagnostic spells floating around Dumbledore’s genitals. “Syphilis is spread through contact with bodily fluids. I find it highly unlikely that you contracted it through a solid object unless it was recently heavily soiled.”

Dumbledore remembered through his lemon drop induced haze the circumstances of finding the ring. The bathroom in that bar was a legendary anonymous hook-up site... and smelt like it too. With a casual shrug Dumbledore concluded “It is possible that this object was impregnated with a curse meant to inflict injury.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing with such an object but it is highly dangerous. An untreated syphilis infection can spread to the blood and brain. This object could have blinded, paralyzed, or even killed you over time! I can teach you some barrier charms for safe sex and we will need to begin an antibiotic treatment immediately.”

A faint smile had begun to spread across Dumbledore face. “Did you say syphilis can be deadly?” he inquired, his eyes twinkling.

“Exceedingly,” replied Pomfrey who looked worried at Dumbledore’s cheerful response to being told he had a deadly disease.

“Thank you for your time Poppy, I must leave now and speak to Severus immediately.”


	6. Chapter 6

Snape sat at Dumbledore’s desk rubbing his temples. _This nightmare is never fucking ending,_ thought Snape as he glared at the cock ring which had been lovingly placed on a regal cushion upon Dumbledore’s desk.

“The power Voldemort knows not,” proclaimed Dumbledore madly, “is the deadliness of muggle STDs.” He began pacing his office before continuing with a shrug “I thought the prophecy was referring to love, but this is close enough.”

Snape responded by bashing his head against Dumbledore’s desk, once for every word the old codger said. He hoped to knock himself unconscious but unfortunately was alert enough to hear Dumbledore continue.

“You were right Severus. The ring is not a hallow or a horcrux, but it has turned out to be even more powerful than I imagined. Madame Pomfrey says it carries syphilis, a deadly disease popular with muggles.” Dumbledore levelled his face with Snape’s and asked fervently, “Do you see the potential Severus?”

“You want to bring down the Dark Lord with syphilis,” answered Snape sarcastically.

“Precisely,” answered Dumbledore resolutely.

Dumbledore ignored Snape’s blatant contempt. Instead he continued, “I will charm the ring to be permanently impregnated with syphilis. It will be your responsibility to decipher how we hoodwink Tom into using it. The disease trajectory will give us enough time to destroy the horcruxes. By the time we have completed that task Tom will be both mortal and in the tertiary and incurable stages of syphilis.”

Straightening his stance Dumbledore looked thoughtfully out his office window and over Hogwarts’ grounds. The first morning light was falling over the fog-shrouded forest creating an inspirational landscape to plot sex related murder.

“That leaves us with one question. What is Tom’s kink? I can’t deny his strength as a wizard. He must be enormously kinky and that is what we need to target.”

Snape was not familiar with syphilis but it seemed like a better plan than waiting for a sixteen year old to kill arguably the most powerful wizard of all time. The sooner the Dark Lord was dead, the sooner he could concentrate on his potion making business full time. The salary of a school teacher was frivolous compared to the black market selling of beauty products to female students. Grudgingly, Snape tried to think of information that would be helpful to Dumbledore. It was not hard to draw upon the Dark Lord’s kinks except for the fact that he had constructed the equivalent of an Azkaban level of security to prevent himself from reflecting on them.

“When the Dark Lord is feeling ravenous,” Snape began warily, “he holds revels. He likes to be watched.”

Dumbledore was perched on his toes, his eyes dilated as he listened attentively. “Is that all?” he breathed. “That is nearly vanilla,” finished Dumbledore with an air of disillusionment.

“You are familiar with the Dark Lord’s affinity to snakes,” Snape remarked with a hint of revulsion.

“Indeed,” replied Dumbledore, whose eyes had suddenly brightened.

_Fuck it, there is no easy way to say this,_ thought Snape. “The Dark Lord derives pleasure from the thought of being a snake. He has a select few of his followers insert snake-like eggs into his anus. He likes to be covered with oils so that he may slither on the floor and expel the eggs. Sometimes we are instructed to hiss at him,” explained Snape matter-of-factly.

“Marvellous!” replied Dumbledore who seemed absolutely delighted by this perversion. “I think this should be fairly straightforward then. Once I charm the ring I will have you transfigure it into a snake egg. You will bring it to the next revel and ensure that it makes contact with his anus. You must dispel any barrier charms. I think it is imperative that you oversee the insertion Severus.”

“You can’t be serious,” groaned Snape. “I am not known to participate in the revels, he will deduce that something is amiss.”

“You must make him believe it Severus. The fate of the wizarding world depends on it,” concluded Dumbledore gravely.


	7. Chapter 7

After his meeting with Dumbledore, Snape had penned an urgent letter to Lucius Malfoy requesting the details of the next revel. _Lucius is such a slimy bastard,_ thought Snape. _He has probably been cramming eggs into the Dark Lord’s ass for years to gain favour. Pathetic._ Meanwhile, Snape had not voluntarily participated in a revel since he was a salacious teenager. Instead, he had devised different ways to rise in the Dark Lord’s ranks. Teenage girls were not the only population desiring beautifying potions. Snape could bottle fame, brew glory, put a stopper in death, but above all else he could conceive potions that gradually converted skin to snake-like scales. Although he couldn’t internalize it, Dumbledore was onto something with his theory about the relationship between strength and kinkiness.

While waiting on Lucius’s reply, Snape began working on the transfiguration of the ring. From his memory he recalled the Dark Lord using modest sized eggs for his pleasures. Snape transfigured the ring into a chicken sized egg and studied it. _The Dark Lord has been doing this for years,_ thought Snape, _surely his ass had stretched._ Pinching his eyebrows together in deep concentration, Snape grabbed a spare bit of parchment and began formulating arithmetic calculations. Several moments later Snape gasped. If his calculations were correct, at this rate the Dark Lord’s anus should be able to accommodate an ostrich sized egg. With a look of grim determination Snape enlarged the egg to reflect his calculations. It was enormous, it was intimidating, it was perfection.

While admiring his work and reflecting on the sadistic comedy his life had become, Snape was interrupted by a visitor entering his floo. Snape recognized the pretentious blend of Malfoy’s ashwinder egg and amber cologne from behind the brick and grudgingly allowed him entry into his study.

“Lucius,” Snape drawled cruelly “Certainly a reply by owl would have been sufficient. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Malfoy made no notice of Snape’s lack of hospitality. Instead he smiled arrogantly and regarded Snape with a single raised eyebrow. “You wish to come to a revel Severus? How surprising. Have you injured your hand? Or perhaps you’ve run out of Knockturn alley sluts?”

“I desire something different,” responded Snape indifferently.

“I don’t believe that for a moment. Has Dumbledore finally forbid you from fucking the students?” Malfoy teased effortlessly.

“It is between the Dark Lord and myself,” spat Snape with a tone of finality.

Malfoy strode across the room until he was close enough to whisper into Snape’s ear. “I find that it is my business Severus,” Malfoy drawled lazily. He placed a hand on Snape’s shoulder and squeezed it menacingly before continuing dangerously: “Mark my word I will find out what this ploy is about.”  

As the weight of the threat settled in, Malfoy dropped his hand to gently caress Snape’s lower back. “The revel is this Saturday at 11:00pm in the main drawing room. I think the Dark Lord will be most pleased to see us perform together, just like in the old days.”

This was an old bit of intimidation. Once upon a time a teenaged Snape was prudish and averse to homosexuality. At the time, Malfoy had been an older admired student who haughtily explained that only lowly muggles and half-bloods despised such behaviour. Snape’s heterosexuality became an easy target for ridicule amongst the Slytherins and in retaliation Snape had found himself in the arms of Malfoy, eager to prove his worth.

These days, Snape was secure in his sexuality and could play along with Malfoy’s game. If Malfoy thought that Snape would shy away from the revel at the thought of oiled bodies and veiny cocks he would be in for a surprise.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape and Dumbledore sat plotting in Dumbledore’s study an hour before the revel. Snape was accepting lemon drops as quickly as Dumbledore could make them in his muggle cocktail shaker. Meanwhile, Dumbledore was talking Snape through the finer points of anal insertion and Snape was preparing in his own special way by trying to get buzzed.

“Remember Severus, never insert at ninety degree angle. Always follow the contours of the body, that is essential,” droned Dumbledore seriously.

“Do we need to talk about the prostate?” asked Dumbledore when Snape failed to respond to his teaching.

“Ugh no,” groaned Snape who was starting to get a headache from all the sugar.

“I’m worried about Lucius, Severus. He intends to prove that you have ulterior motives for attending the revel. I believe he will try to expose you in front of Tom.”

_Why do you think I am trying to get drunk?_ thought Snape cynically.

“I will be convincing in every manner,” Snape replied, mainly in reassurance to himself.

“I trust your abilities Severus, but I wanted to offer something to help.” Dumbledore pulled two vials out of a velvet pouch and rolled them across the desk to Snape who eyed them skeptically.

“A dilation potion and a lust potion Severus. Should you need to be exceedingly convincing these will allow you to do so. Remember with the dilation potion to titrate it to your weight. Taking it in excess will lead to incontinence,” said Dumbledore delicately.

“Meaning I will shit myself,” replied Snape bluntly.

Before Dumbledore could respond a familiar Eagle Owl had descended upon the exterior window sill. Dumbledore’s face hardened as he summoned the Malfoy’s owl into his office and untied an ostentatious silk package from its leg. Silently Dumbledore handed the package to Snape with a calculating stare.  

The package revealed a strappy leather body harness and thong. The harness was complete with metal studs, rings, and buckles. It was evidently sent to humiliate and test Snape.

With a straight face Dumbledore turned to Snape and remarked sadly, “The games begin Severus. I suggest you get dressed.”


	9. Chapter 9

Snape’s outer wool cloak was scratchy against his almost completely bare skin as he strode up the walkway of Malfoy Manor. Making things infinitely worse was the way the bitter November wind was creating a steady breeze underneath his flowing cloak causing him to flash his pale arse to Lucius’ pride of ridiculous peacocks. He could feel their silent judgement and sneered at them.

Snape stood awkwardly at the threshold of a massive and elaborate wrought iron doorway as he cradled the transfigured egg to his chest like some kind of fucked up house warming gift. To his absolute horror, Peter Pettigrew opened the door to welcome Snape into the manor wearing a similarly perverted ensemble. Snape fought to keep his alcohol down as he witnessed Pettigrew’s fuzzy bullocks sway in and out of his thong with each step towards the drawing room.

The drawing room setup was identical to every revel Snape had attended. The marble floors were being oiled by scantily clad Death Eaters to make the equivalent of a Muggle slip and slide for the Dark Lord to toss off to. Dozens of candles had been charmed and levitated to create a sensual atmosphere, but the overall effect was lost on Snape as he spotted Lucius. Lucius whose waist length blond hair was the only hair left on his body, and whose leather harness was pulled tightly over taught muscle. With one last internal scream Snape dismissed every bodily insecurity he ever harboured and made eye contact with Lucius as he boldly dropped his cloak to the floor.

“Severus, don’t you look delectable,” teased Lucius with a laugh. “Admittedly, I am surprised to see you here. The Dark Lord will be most pleased. And I see you brought him a gift, how unusual,” remarked Lucius with a piercing calculating stare.

“Well, let’s not keep him waiting,” commented Lucius as he wrapped an arm around Snape’s waist, pulling him close to his body and hooking his fingers under the thin strap of leather encompassing his hips.

Snape allowed himself to be escorted to the Dark Lord who, he breathed a sigh of relief, was still fully robed. Snape knelt on the ground to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord’s robe, cringing at the feeling of his leather thong disappearing into the depths of his arse.

“What a charming outfit Severus. Am I right to assume Lucius has picked it for you? I can sense that he is eager to prove you are here on malicious intent tonight,” remarked Voldemort darkly.

“Although I wonder,” continued Voldemort with a smirk, “how do you intend to convince him otherwise?”

With that opening Snape rose from the floor, rising only centimeters away from Lucius’ chest until they were nose to nose. Without hesitating he kissed Lucius until he was gasping for air, and as he pulled away he bit Lucius’ bottom lip until he tasted blood. He could feel his body stiffen as he tried to interpret Snape’s behaviour. _Figure this out you blond haired blithering prat_ , Snape thought as he gave Lucius a quick smack on the ass.

“Very good Severus,” laughed Voldemort as he began a slow clap, “almost believable.”

“Now, I find this act highly amusing and I think I shall permit it to play out. Be on your best behaviour Severus, I would not want to have to punish you,” said Voldemort, his expression turning cold.

Snape obediently walked back into the drawing room hoping he could avoid most of the festivities. His stunt with Lucius seemed to hold him at bay from any further attempts at humiliation. Perhaps he would be safe wandering around the manor until the egg cramming began. He began walking meaninglessly as he tried to wipe the taste of Lucius’ mouth off onto the back of his hand. He thought he could taste a hint of a male performance potion. _Interesting,_ thought Snape with a snigger.

Snape had made it into the Malfoy wine cellar without being disturbed. He was casually reading the labels to distract himself from the perversion upstairs. For someone who hated Muggles, Lucius had a surprising amount of Muggle wine. Snape was reminded of when he first passed his apparition licensing exam as a teenager. To celebrate, Lucius had invited him to raid the wine cellar of Buckingham Palace for a laugh. It seems that it was not a one-time event for Lucius.

Just as Snape had made his decision on what to loot, a house elf apparated into the cellar.

“Master Snape is wanted in the main drawing room,” said the house elf feebly, leaving with a bow.


	10. Chapter 10

Before returning to the drawing room Snape administered his carefully titrated dilation potion and then cast an illusionary charm of his design on his genitals. The charm would make him appear to have a raging hard on while in reality his member would be retracted into his body at the idea of forcing an egg into the Dark Lord’s scaly arse. _Ten points to Snape,_ he thought cynically as he descended upon the drawing room.

The drawing room air was repulsively moist and thick with the smell of lust potions. Snape tried to assume a domineering stride to the Dark Lord but the oily marble floor cramped his style.

“Severus,” regarded Voldemort intensely and the room instantly fell silent.

“My Lord,” Snape responded accordingly as he felt every eye in the room shift to him.

“You have brought me an intriguing gift tonight. You may commence tonight’s revel,” said Voldemort seriously.

Snape hesitated as he began walking towards the Dark Lord. He had never initiated a revel and he was not sure what was required of him. As he approached Voldemort a circle of Death Eater’s encased them and disrobed. Lucius kneeled at Voldemort’s feet presenting him with a goblet of massage oil.

“Disrobe me Severus,” beckoned Voldemort in what was evidently meant to be a sultry tone.

With one final internal prayer for his eyes and body to survive the night, Snape expertly removed Voldemort’s robes without touching his skin. As his robes fell to the floor Voldemort turned away from Snape and bent over. After a few seconds in which Snape did nothing but mentally gape at the literal snake where Voldemort’s penis should have been, Voldemort gave an inpatient hiss. He cast the image out of his head until he could deal with it at a later more sane time. Snape then turned to Lucius who was smirking arrogantly and holding the goblet towards him.

Snape dipped his fingers into the goblet, and then with better judgement, coated his knuckles and wrists too. _I only intend to do this once, so I need to do it right,_ said Snape to himself in reassurance.

With his dominant hand, Snape entered Voldemort’s surprisingly taut and puckered anus with his finger. _Oh Merlin, what was I thinking, this is never going to fit,_ thought Snape frantically as he felt the weight of the egg in his other hand. Working his oily fingers into Voldemort he stretched the scaly tissue feverishly until he was able to fit his entire fist into the cavity. He then withdrew his fist with an audible pop and levelled the egg with Voldemort’s ass. Using both hands, Snape began pushing the narrowest portion of the egg onwards until he met resistance. Using his feet for leverage, Snape found himself sliding across the slick floor with the effort of advancing the egg. He was beginning to work up a sweat and was motivated only by the faint moaning and hissing sounds Voldemort was making. The egg had reached the halfway point and was not budging. Desperately, Snape wound up his hand and punched the butt of the egg with force. With a vacuum-like sucking noise, Voldemort’s ass completely engulfed the egg and Voldemort cried out in ecstasy.

Voldemort dropped to the ground and began wriggling like a snake. Snape instinctively tried to take a step back, hoping to escape unnoticed, but the circle of Death Eater’s had tightened forcing him to remain at Voldemort’s side. As he searched for a weak point in the circle, a foot kicked him squarely in the back sending him to the ground. He looked up to find the face of Lucius who raised an eyebrow and smiled arrogantly. Snape’s thoughts of homicide quickly evaporated at the heinous sound of Voldemort straining to expel the egg and the accompanying encouragements from the surrounding circle. With no other choice, Snape crouched down behind Voldemort preparing to play the part of a twisted midwife in the birth of a syphilis ridden sex toy.

The egg was crowning but not making any other progress. Desperate for the night to end, Snape cast a wandless spell forcing the smooth muscles of Voldemort’s anus to rhythmically contract. Preparing himself to catch the egg, Snape awkwardly squatted with his arms outstretched. With one final push, the egg rocketed out of Voldemort’s ass with such velocity that Snape was forced to raise his arms high in the air in order to catch it.

Snape stood speechless with the egg held high above his head in apparent triumph. The Death Eater’s began to cheer and tend to Voldemort who had collapsed to the ground in exhaustion and pleasure. Snape took that moment to shrink the egg and place it in a tiny pouch Dumbledore had stitched into his harness for safe keeping. Before leaving the manor, Snape located Lucius and lovingly ran his oily, faintly bloody, and feces tinged fingers through his blond locks.

“Always a pleasure Lucius,” Snape regarded as the blond recoiled in disgust. Finally giving himself a moment to celebrate his success, Snape pressed a light hearted kiss against Lucius’ scowling mouth.

“Great show Severus,” Lucius responded through gritted teeth.


	11. Chapter 11

Snape was so elated from the evening’s conclusion that he apparated back to Hogwarts’ grounds wearing only his leather harness and thong. He was practically skipping up the path leading to the school before he came to his senses. _Dammit,_ thought Snape, he had left his cloak at the Manor. He abandoned the path and began sulking in the shadows of the barren Forbidden Forest trying to find something to transfigure into clothing. He took off his leather harness and attempted to transfigure it into a cloak but it was too little material. The result was something closer to a leather mini skirt, which Snape put on with a shrug. Just as he was resigned to spending the rest of his life in the forest, a house elf apparated in front of him with its eyes pressed closed and its arms outstretched with a horrid sunshine yellow cloak. After Snape finished berating himself for being such a dodgy spy, and after donning Dumbledore’s atrociously coloured cloak, he noticed a figure approaching him.

“Severus, lovely to see you. I would think in the future you would be a bit more careful with your attire. But never mind that! You have certainly had an eventful evening, let us adjourn to my office,” said Dumbledore cheerfully.

Snape mindlessly followed Dumbledore back to his office and gladly accepted a vial of calming draught and another lemon drop. Despite the potions affect, he was still alarmed to notice Dumbledore’s office had transformed into a state of insanity. All the walls were covered with intricate yarn work connecting hand written pinned notes and vials of pensieve memories. It was akin to that of a crime scene investigation.

“I did my homework while you were gone Severus,” announced Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

“Evidently,” acknowledged Snape as he exhaustedly collapsed into an armchair.

“First order of business Severus. Do you require medical attention?” inquired Dumbledore briskly.

“I have not been physically harmed,” Snape answered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and promoting Dumbledore to approach him like a wounded animal. Lowering himself to Snape’s level, Dumbledore delicately placed his fingers on Snape’s temples and assessed him with a piercing stare. “May I?” he asked. Snape nodded dejectedly and lowered his occlumency barriers.

“ _Legilimens_ ,” Dumbledore whispered.

After Dumbledore withdrew from his memories, Snape looked at him expectantly and cleared his throat.

“After the war is over, a great deal of psychiatric help will be in order for the both of us Severus. Unfortunately there is still work to be done so we must keep our memories,” answered Dumbledore gravely.

Dumbledore became distant and thoughtful before continuing “For now, allow me to brew us some healing hot cocoa, which I believe will go splendidly with a class of drugs the muggles call amphetamines. They work wonders for improving one’s concentration,” concluded Dumbledore as he gestured to the mess of yarn he had littered around his office.

Against his better judgement, Snape found himself accepting a cup of cocoa and asking “Pray tell me, to what end are we getting high tonight?” as he glared skeptically at the small white pill in his palm.

Dumbledore responded from on top of his desk, perched on his toes, his arms stretched above his head to pin yarn and ‘clues’ to the ceiling. Despite it being past 02:00am Dumbledore appeared unusually alert, and when he stood still to answer Snape, a fine tremor ran through his body.

“Horcruxes,” answered Dumbledore wildly. “I believe I have found the connection between Tom and the objects he has chosen,” continued Dumbledore confidently. Dumbledore paused dramatically before jumping off his desk and striding to where Snape sat. “Think Severus, he is an orphan, what is he lacking?”

“Parents,” answered Snape dumbly.

“He is sentimental Severus. Hogwarts was his only home and he has shown an affinity for the power of the four founders. Ravenclaw’s diadem was stolen during his time. Slytherin’s locket is unaccounted for,” explained Dumbledore frantically.

“That can’t be right,” answered Snape bewildered. “The Dark Lord would have never selected items that could be connected that easily. It would be foolish. He would sooner make a horcrux out of a grain of sand,” explained Snape frustratedly.

“There is no power in a grain of sand Severus, and I suspect he would not care if the horcruxes were found for they would be greatly protected. For instance, the diary,” explained Dumbledore with a sad smile. “Besides,” Dumbledore continued casually, “I have already surmised the location of Slytherin’s locket.”

Flashbacks to a similar conversation played out in Snape’s head. A muggle bar, a dirty bathroom, and a ring that would start and end it all. With a sigh Snape nodded for Dumbledore to elaborate.

“This will be your mission while I locate the remaining horcruxes. The locket was originally held by Regulus Black and was stolen from the Black house by Mundungus Fletcher. The locket is now in the hands of Dolores Umbridge. You must obtain the locket without her knowledge and without magic. Naturally, she is being monitored by the ministry, which is infiltrated with Death Eaters. It will be prudent that your magical signature cannot be detected on her.”

Snape loathed having to interact with Umbridge but he cast the idea out of his mind. “You said the objects will be greatly protected,” Snape commented seriously, “how will we destroy them?”

“Four years ago Tom’s diary was successfully destroyed with basilisk venom. I think that will suffice again,” answered Dumbledore with a smirk as he knelt down in front of an obscured loose floor board. Pulling the floor board away, Dumbledore revealed a small cavity with hidden objects.

“I keep a great many objects that I think will one day serve a purpose,” explained Dumbledore as he began excavating items from the floor. The first to appear was a stack of pornographic magazines followed by a collection of 1980’s early rave music. Finally, in a dusty crocheted bag there was a handful of basilisk fangs, that is, all the basilisk fangs Snape had picked over before the Chamber of Secrets was permanently sealed.

“Very well,” Snape responded curtly before taking leave of Dumbledore’s office.


	12. Chapter 12

_I should have never taken those muggle pills from Dumbledore,_ thought Snape resentfully as his heart pounded with such force that he found himself shaking in his bed. After forgoing the possibility of sleep Snape had begun planning what he had coined his ‘horcrux heist.’ Plotting against the Umbridge woman should have presented an effortless task for any cunning Slytherin, however after coming up with nothing but lewd and outlandish tripe it appeared that Snape had been corrupted by Dumbledore-esque scheming.

_I’m a spy dammit. I can’t let that vile toad of woman defeat me,_ thought Snape grouchily. _I need to return to the basics,_ resolved Snape. Jumping up from his bed, Snape reached for a book he kept disillusioned amongst his personal library that read _Espionage for Dummies_ on the spine. He flipped through the index rapidly searching for ideas, his finger dragging roughly down the worn out pages. His finger settled on the only term he had not penned notes over and he felt his body stiffen with disgust and resolution.

_‘Honeypot: to obtain information through sexual seduction. See page 394.’_

Snape could feel Dumbledore’s approval radiate from the page, and even he could see the merit. Umbridge was a horrid woman and surely she would be desperate enough to allow Snape into her bedroom where he could disrobe her and have access to the locket. The only thing left to consider was how to secure a date with the toad. With a shudder Snape recalled blatantly ignoring Umbridge’s advances the previous year during her brief reign of terror at Hogwarts. Invitations for late night tea and special detentions whirled in his memory. It had seemed that Umbridge preferred the bad boy and Snape had fit the profile as Hogwarts most hated professor and reformed Death Eater.

Against his better judgement Snape grabbed a roll of parchment and began penning a letter. With each retched word he pressed his quill harder into the paper until it was covered with ink splotches and small holes. Hopefully Umbridge would interpret the mess as a product of urgency and desire, and not revulsion and regret. He couldn’t even bring himself to reread his letter for errors, fearing that he would lose his nerve and destroy it.

* * *

 

Only hours later, Umbridge would be reading the letter over her morning cup of tea from her ministry approved desk. Her face would be flushed and lined with a pleased smirk as she squirmed in her seat. Upon returning home later that day, she would lay out her frilliest lingerie and read from her own personal book on theoretical sex magic and wizard courtship.

Before she went to sleep, she would lay Snape’s letter upon her rosewood vanity. Each corner of the letter pressed open with a small cat figurine.

“ _There is no order here without you,_ ” the letter read. “ _The students are beastly cretins and I find myself longing for the company of a strong woman. If you are agreeable, meet me in the Leaky Cauldron at 09:00pm Friday evening. Wear something frilly._ ”

That night she had the most pleasant dream of screaming children being held by their ankles with metal chains and manacles. Once she grew tired of their pleas, a mysterious dark man appeared and whispered “ _Avada Kedavra_ ” until there was complete silence. She laughed with delight and the dream ended with her being pinned against a damp dungeon wall.


	13. Chapter 13

It was Friday evening and Snape had just claimed his reserved table at the Leaky Cauldron. The restaurant had taken on a different atmosphere than during the school summer holidays. The family style bench seating had been replaced by intimate circular tables and soft lighting. Once Umbridge was seated across from him their legs would undoubtedly be touching. Despite himself Snape began to feel a tendril of anxiety. He could effortlessly navigate through Death Eater rallies, but the thought of finessing his way through a dinner conversation in order to be offered sex was too much.

At exactly 09:00pm Snape watched as Umbridge entered the restaurant and smiled sweetly at the hostess before being led towards him. She absolutely oozed the colour pink. Wearing evidently what was supposed to be an alluring satin dress which gathered underneath the bust with an assortment of glittering pins, all Snape could notice was how the fabric perfectly outlined her waist high bulky underwear. That and the heavy gold chain locket falling between her cleavage.

“Professor Snape,” greeted Umbridge formally. An uncomfortable silence passed between them as Umbridge stared at Snape expectantly with bulging eyes.

“Ah, Professor Umbridge. Thank you for joining me. I must admit you look exquisite,” managed Snape with passable politeness.

“Madam Undersecretary,” corrected Umbridge with a fake smile. “I admit I rather despised being a professor. I believe we share the same views on children and their need for strict discipline,” responded Umbridge sweetly.

“Quite,” responded Snape who made a show of busying himself with the drink menu.

“But you yourself are in need of discipline too,” continued Umbridge without a change in tone.

_What the fuck,_ thought Snape as he tried to mould his horror stricken eyes into something resembling intrigue. He raised a single eyebrow in questioning.

“I wonder what you were thinking, suggesting that I wear something frilly. You are a naughty boy, aren’t you Professor Snape?” answered Umbridge with a girly sing song voice.

“Yes,” responded Snape in disbelief.

“Yes what?” asked Umbridge sternly.

“Yes, Madam Undersecretary. I am a naughty boy and I deserve to be punished,” answered Snape in a deadpan voice.

“Very good Professor. I will forgive you for this transgression. As a matter of fact I did wear something frilly,” continued Umbridge formally. She began to rise from the table and pulled from her handbag a pink brassiere with a ludicrous amount of tassels and lace that she placed nonchalantly on the table.

“If you will excuse me Professor, I need to powder my nose,” declared Umbridge as she confidently strode towards the apparition point at the back of the restaurant.

_This is it,_ thought Snape with apprehension. Things had gone so exceedingly well that he had not even had to buy the witch dinner. Snape internally praised himself on being such a suave gentleman as he pocketed Umbridge's lingerie and followed her to the apparition point.

Once at the point, Snape hesitated before offering Umbridge his arm for apparition.

“I suspect you will not want to return to Hogwarts. It’s not the most romantic setting,” suggested Snape subtly.

“Romance,” laughed Umbridge bitterly. “I would rather think the dungeons would be a fitting place for your punishment. But no matter, my place will suffice,” concluded Umbridge as she offered her arm to Snape.

The pair disapparated into a spacious apartment absolutely annihilated by lace trims, doilies, embroidered floral tapestries, and meowing kittens on decorative plates.

“Would you like to see my bedroom?” inquired Umbridge innocently.

Snape shuddered at the school girl impression and reluctantly followed Umbridge into her bedroom. _All I have to do is get her undressed, take the locket, and find the exit,_ thought Snape in encouragement to himself.

In a moment of rare Gryffindor bravery, Snape seized Umbridge and heaved her onto the bed, almost blowing out his back in the process. _Fuck I am getting old,_ thought Snape as he lay breathlessly on his back. Umbridge, no longer dead weight, crawled onto Snape’s chest and began removing her dress.

_One step closer to the locket,_ Snape chanted repeatedly as he tried to mentally censor Umbridge’s generous breasts. He ran his hands heavily along her neck and back, fingering the clasp of the locket experimentally. To his extreme disappointment, Umbridge grasped his hands and directed them impatiently to her breasts.

_Be patient and be convincing,_ Snape reminded himself as he was forced to focus on Umbridge’s breasts. With a practiced hand, Snape rolled Umbridge's nipples between his fingers only to be startled by an overly dramatic high pitched moan. He almost fell off the bed in alarm.  

“So hot,” Snape responded unconvincingly through gritted teeth.

“Let me help you get undressed,” he offered as he reached to unclasp the locket. To his immense relief he freed the locket without difficulty and dropped it to the floor where he could retrieve it later.

“I believe it’s your turn now, Mr. Snape,” Umbridge said using her authoritative teacher’s voice.

“Ah,” Snape stalled. “Could I possibly have a drink? I am feeling a bit shy,” said Snape timidly.

“Playing the part of the school boy Mr. Snape?” Umbridge asked with a smirk. “I don’t think young boys like yourself are supposed to have alcohol, but if you promise to be good I can give you a glass of mead,” bargained Umbridge.

“Yes Ma’am,” Snape responded as he tried to keep the bile from rising into his throat.

As soon as Umbridge left the room, seductively rocking her chunky hips as she went, Snape dived off the bed towards the locket and secured it in his cloak. _Thank Merlin,_ Snape thought as he felt the weight of the locket against his chest. His success was dampened by the reality that he could not simply apparate back to Hogwarts without raising suspicion. He needed a scapegoat.

Umbridge returned to the bedroom holding a glass of mead and announced herself with her signature throat clearing.

“You’re still dressed,” Umbridge commented sternly with disappointment as she eyed Snape sitting fully cloaked on the edge of the bed.

“I am having some difficulty,” Snape announced embarrassedly.

“With getting undressed,” repeated Umbridge disbelievingly.

“With getting an erection,” retorted Snape stiffly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, let me help,” responded Umbridge sweetly as she moved to crouch between Snape’s legs. Snape swatted away her hand as she moved to undo his trousers.

“That won’t be necessary I assure you,” Snape said acerbically. “Madam Undersecretary, please, it’s not you it’s me,” lied Snape effortlessly.

Umbridge stood up from the ground and towered over Snape menacingly, her eyes wide with anger. “Don’t insult me with that tripe Snape. Just admit that you can’t handle a woman like me. Either way it's irrelevant, I will not permit you to leave without your punishment.” spoke Umbridge with authority.

_In for a knut, in for a galleon,_ thought Snape with a shrug. _I’m a grown man, I can handle a spanking! How bad could this be,_ rationalized Snape at the relief of not having to involve his knob in this farce.

“A spanking then?” asked Snape mischievously as he tried to convince Umbridge that he was amenable to the act.

“I don’t think you deserve a spanking Mr. Snape,” responded Umbridge arrogantly with her head held high. “I think I shall have you write some lines with a very special quill of mine,” she concluded with a nasty smirk.

“By all means,” responded Snape as he allowed himself to be seated at a very feminine desk and handed an unassuming quill and parchment.

“You know something Mr. Snape? I think you must be hiding a very pretty little arse under those robes. I request that you disrobe for this task,” said Umbridge smugly.

_For fucks sake,_ thought Snape as he unceremoniously complied against his better judgement. Standing with his cloak hiked up and his trousers pooled around his ankles Snape presented his backside to Umbridge. “Well?” he inquired impatiently.

“You may proceed Mr. Snape,” answered Umbridge in approval. “I would like you to write ‘I enjoy sucking Dumbledore’s old wrinkly cock.’ You won’t need any ink,” commented Umbridge softly.

_What the fuck?_ Snape thought panickedly. _Does she know this is a setup or is she just trying to humiliate me?_ Keeping his composure Snape scribbled the sentence as fast as he could until he reached the end of the small length of parchment.

Umbridge crouched down until she was eye level with Snape. With a falsely concerned voice and wide probing eyes she asked “Well? How do you feel?”

Snape looked at her with confusion until he felt it. Letter by letter he could feel the words he wrote being etched into the soft skin of his arse. He stood up in shock only to see he had soiled a horrid embroidered cushion with his blood.

“You are a vile woman,” Snape spoke truthfully, which only served to delight Umbridge who began laughing maniacally in the timbre of a five year old girl. With that, Snape promptly redressed and disapparated.


	14. Chapter 14

Snape disapparated outside the gates of Hogwarts and strode immediately to Dumbledore’s office to destroy the horcrux and hopefully be granted permission to sleep for the first time in what felt like two weeks.

To Snape’s immense jealousy, Dumbledore was curled up underneath his desk sleeping and sucking on his wand like an infant with a pacifier. He allowed himself two minutes to stare at Dumbledore and evaluate whether the scene was adorable or disturbing. He settled for the latter.

Just as Snape was finding his own comfortable spot on the floor, Dumbledore began to stir, finally waking himself up by smashing his head on the underside of his desk.

“Greetings Severus!” he announced jollily as he staggered to his feet. “How was your evening?”

“Just grand,” Snape said blandly as he stood up and mooned Dumbledore his bleeding arse.

Dumbledore studied the words carved into Snape’s bottom with his fingers steepled together hiding a smirk. When he could no longer keep his composure Dumbledore burst in fits of deep laughter that reverberated off the office walls.

“I’m sorry Severus,” he cried, wiping tears away from his crinkled eyes. “Am I right to assume you tried to seduce Umbridge only to be unable to follow through with your plans? She must have been very disappointed indeed.”

“It hardly matters,” Snape said indifferently as he tossed the locket onto Dumbledore’s desk.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore beamed and began clapping as if Snape had just shown him an impressive magic trick.

“Now if you will excuse me Headmaster, I am going to go pay to have this evening’s memories obliviated,” retorted Snape disdainfully.

“Before you leave Severus let me summon the remaining horcruxes and then we can talk about obilivation,” responded Dumbledore casually.

“Excuse me? Summon the horcruxes? Explain yourself,” said Snape icily.

“Ah yes, while you were away I surmised the form of the remaining horcruxes and I believe I should be able to summon them with a simple accio,” proclaimed Dumbledore passively.

Snape was fuming. He could have been spared his entire debacle with Umbridge if he had simply accioed the locket!? _Unbelievable. The old man will pay for this._

“YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT-,” Snape began yelling before being cut off by Dumbledore mid-sentence.

“I’m sorry I did not think of it earlier Severus. Truly! But you must believe me when I say the spell would not have worked for you. You see, I am the sole possessor of the elder wand. The death stick. The first deathly hallow. The most powerful wand in existence!” explained Dumbledore with a mad glint in his eye.

“This is insanity Dumbledore! The hallows are children’s lore!” spat Snape in disgust.

“It is true Severus,” answered Dumbledore sadly.

“Prove it then,” sneered Snape.

“I understand your apprehension Severus. I believe the horcruxes are Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, and Marvolo Gaunt's ring. I invite you to summon them to this room.”

One by one Snape attempted to summon the alleged horcruxes, and smiled smugly at Dumbledore as they failed to appear.

“Your turn,” Snape said pointedly.

“ _ACCIO_ HUFFLEPUFF’S CUP,” bellowed Dumbledore. Several minutes later, during which Snape sat smiling triumphantly, a silver goblet smashed through the study window and clattered to the ground.

“ _ACCIO_ RAVENCLAW’S DIADEM,” continued Dumbledore. Within seconds a blue gemmed tiara materialized modestly on Dumbledore’s desk.

“ _ACCIO_ MARVOLO GAUNT’S RING,” cried Dumbledore in finality. It took significantly longer before a small gold and black ring entered through the smashed window and glinted dangerously on Dumbledore’s desk.

“Ah well, that was easier than expected,” shrugged Dumbledore as he went to retrieve the basilisk fangs from the loose floorboard.

Snape sat dumbstruck staring at the horcruxes before coming to his senses. He decided to completely ignore the existence of the deathly hallows and instead pointed out the next flaw in Dumbledore’s plan. “Dumbledore. This only totals four horcruxes. Five counting Riddle’s diary. What about the other two?”

“Yes indeed. I believe that Voldemort’s snake is likely a horcrux. But I think our friend syphilis should take care of that one. Assuming Voldemort is intimate with the snake, and I bet you ten butterbeers he is! Who wouldn’t want to shag a snake?” said Dumbledore merrily.

Snape buried his head into his hands before apprehensively asking what the final horcrux was.

“Brace yourself,” Dumbledore said giddily. He walked close to Snape and dramatically extended his fingers and waved his palms as if to reveal a pleasant surprise. “The final horcrux,” Dumbledore announced suspensefully, “IS HARRY!”

“Oh,” answered Snape evenly. “That does seem obvious now that I think about it.”

“Precisely! The ability to speak to snakes, an unexplainable immunity to death, a connection to Voldemort’s mind. I must admit you’re a bit slow Severus, I’ve known since the diary was destroyed.”

“So when the time comes, the boy must die?”

“Yup,” replied Dumbledore casually as he picked a piece of lint off his robes.

“You’ve kept him alive so he can die at the proper moment. You’ve been raising him like a pig for slaughter!” accused Snape angrily.

“Don’t tell me after all this time you have grown to care for the boy” replied Dumbledore with exasperation.

“For him?” spat Snape. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” Snape whispered as a graceful doe erupted from his wand and trotted around the office.

“Lily? After all this time? Merlin’s beard Severus you really do need to get laid,” chuckled Dumbledore good naturedly.

“You’re drunk,” Snape snapped folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“Tomayto tomahto,” Dumbledore said indifferently. “I propose we destroy the horcruxes we have procured today, and tomorrow we can speak in regards to Mr. Potter.”

Dumbledore removed five basilisk fangs from his stash and handed two to Snape. Snape resisted the urge to slit Dumbledore’s neck with the pointed edge, and instead distracted himself with fantasies of having his memories of everything in the last seventeen years obliviated. After an intense moment, the two men faced each other and smiled before attacking the inanimate objects littering the office.


	15. Chapter 15

Tonight the last horcrux would be destroyed and Voldemort would be mortal once more. The midnight walk to Dumbledore’s office was bittersweet. Snape had unwittingly begun to enjoy his peculiar rendezvous with Dumbledore. The two had made an unconventional team with Dumbledore playing the role of the wise old eccentric man, and Snape the sarcastic and reluctant helper.

As Snape entered Dumbledore’s office the two shared a wordless greeting filled with anticipation and a sense of the ending of an era. After a long moment’s silence, Snape exposed the last basilisk fang from his cloak pocket, and Dumbledore nodded gravely as the two exited the room together.

With each step towards Gryffindor tower Snape’s anticipation morphed into apprehension. He had given little thought to what he would do after the war was over for he had not expected to survive. Now that he was so close to freedom the idea of starting a new life was daunting. He could continue to be a potions master, he could leave the school, he could live under a completely different identity and appearance.

 _What do I want?_ Snape thought anxiously, for surely if he did not figure it out before he reached Gryffindor tower his life would be over. The fleeting idea of living under the disguise of a respectable woman who owned a beauty boutique stocked with his own potions flickered across his mind. _The money would be excellent,_ thought Snape, and then with a mental shrug he added, _and it would be nice to have tits._

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Snape had to stop himself with an abrupt halt before he mindlessly crashed through the portrait door. Before he could wonder about a password, Dumbledore stroked his finger along the length of the portrait and the door swung open revealing a small circular tunnelled entrance. Both men climbed through the portrait hole on their hands and knees, Snape awkwardly falling to the common room floor, and Dumbledore dismounting with a graceful tuck and roll.

As Dumbledore had promised, the common room was blissfully empty. Snape could feel the residue of Dumbledore’s magic throughout the tower. Dumbledore had insisted on placing every Gryffindor student under an enchanted sleep charm which would ensure that they could proceed without issue. Snape had suggested that poisoning the lot would be much simpler, but Dumbledore was insistent on making things as difficult as possible. _Typical,_ thought Snape with a sneer.

Together, Snape and Dumbledore crept up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. Despite the students being drugged and in the equivalent of a magical coma, both men were silent and kept to the shadows. Finally, the pair stood in Harry’s room and pulled back his velvet bed hangings to reveal his sleeping form. Snape stood on one side of the bed glaring at Harry and trying not to reflect on how breaking into a room full of incapacitated teenagers made him feel like a pervert. On the other side of the bed Dumbledore stood watching Harry sleep with a peaceful smile.

“Look at him Severus,” Dumbledore whispered genially. “In dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. He can swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud,” continued Dumbledore softly.

“Let’s kill him,” Snape responded brazenly, fingering the basilisk fang in his pocket.

Dumbledore frowned at Snape’s crassness. “I could be wrong Severus, this could kill Harry too and not just destroy the horcrux,” said Dumbledore with a pained face. Snape simply shrugged and readied the fang high above Harry’s scar, ready to drive it through his big headed skull.

“All for the greater good,” continued Dumbledore with tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. “How could I do such a thing,” he wailed as he flung his body protectively across Harry’s chest.

 _God dammit, he is going to talk himself out of it,_ Snape thought sourly. Trying to remedy the situation, Snape stiffly patted Dumbledore on the back as he planned something comforting to say.

“If we fail and Potter dies I will visit you in Azkaban,” was all Snape could come up with.

Dumbledore laughed bitterly and tousled Harry’s hair causing his limp head to violently rock side to side against his pillow. Without further appeal, Dumbledore stood up and wrapped his hand around Snape’s so that they were both holding the fang poised to strike.

“Together,” they agreed as they plunged the fang into Harry’s scar. The lightning bolt erupted with blood as Harry began seizing in his bed. Tendrils of black smoke wisped out of Harry’s nose and ears, completely obscuring the room. Snape gripped the fang harder as his ears rattled with a high pitched ringing. As quickly as it began the seizing subsided and the blood clotted leaving behind smooth pink skin. The scar had vanished completely and Harry appeared to be sleeping once more.

Both men were momentarily speechless until Harry sat upright in his bed and looked at them inquisitively.

“Sir,” Harry asked Dumbledore looking bewildered, “Why are you in my dorm?”

Dumbledore looked extremely pleased before restoring his mysterious old man facade.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began clumsily, “You’re dreaming, go back to sleep.” Snape snorted as he watched Dumbledore struggle.

“I’m dreaming?” asked Harry skeptically.

“Yes you’re having a very pleasant dream about quidditch and chocolate frogs and,” Dumbledore hesitated before continuing merrily, “girls!”

“This is all happening inside my head,” stated Harry who was clearly not convinced.

“Of course Harry, but that doesn't mean it isn’t real!” answered Dumbledore heartily before blowing a raspberry in the air.

Snape cringed with every word before striding over to Harry’s side and whispering “ _somnium_ ,” with a flick of his wand. Instantly Harry fell limp against his pillow and began snoring lightly. Dumbledore exhaled and merely chuckled.

With Harry sleeping soundly and appearing very much alive, Snape and Dumbledore stared at each other, both with a hint of hope gleaming in their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted June 18th 2019. Thank you for reading this far! I am so excited to share this warped story with you and would love to hear your thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16

Exactly one year following the partial and secret death of Harry Potter, Dumbledore called for an emergency meeting amongst the Order of the Phoenix. The meeting would serve to reveal Dumbledore’s and Snape’s involvement in their unorthodox triumph over Voldemort. Despite their previous speculations, no dramatic and grand final battle between Harry and Voldemort would be necessary. Instead, Nagini, all of the Death Eaters, and Lord Voldemort had gradually succumbed to syphilis.

As it turned out, when Dumbledore returned to Madame Pomfrey to receive his own antibiotic treatment he learned that the deadly tertiary stage of syphilis may not occur for tens of years after the initial infection. In order to cover up his major oversight, Dumbledore was forced to secretly invent an immunosuppressant spell to hasten the disease process. The spell was then painstakingly cast on each target as Dumbledore attended a revel under the guise of a polyjuiced Snape. Unlike Snape, Dumbledore was not a prude and he knew how to have a good time at any function. In fact, Dumbledore had rather enjoyed the curiously vengeful and domineering welcome he had received from Lucius Malfoy against the manor wall.

As Dumbledore waited for the scheduled meeting time, he lightheartedly strung streamers throughout Grimmauld Place and rigged hidden confetti cannons throughout the house. When he was finished, he began filling up trays of ice to accompany his signature muggle cocktails which he would serve alongside his carefully curated xylophone heavy music playlist.

Snape was the first to arrive and made his presence known through the eradication of an entire length of streamers. He made an effort to belittle Dumbledore’s decorations but found his heart was not genuinely invested in his usual cynicism. The rest of the Order appeared soon after, each member regarding Dumbledore’s decorations with suspicion and apprehension as they were led to take seats amongst a long meeting table.

After everyone was seated, Dumbledore took his place at the head of the table. “Thank you for joining Severus and I today,” began Dumbledore sombrely, his serious expression in stark contrast with the glittery streamers brushing against his shoulders.

Several moments silence passed as Severus braced himself for Dumbledore’s inevitable theatrics. His musings were interrupted as Dumbledore abruptly rose from his seat and held his arms outstretched in offering to the table.

“Today the light has prevailed against the dark,” bellowed Dumbledore dramatically. “After months of relentless acts of courage and bravery I can announce that Lord Voldemort and all of his followers have died of natural causes from unnatural circumstances.”

“-dead?”

“-impossible!”

“-all of the death eaters?”

“-he’s mad!”

Adding to the chaos and confusion was the deafening firing of the confetti cannons which silenced the exclamations until only one voice was heard.

“Headmaster please,” exclaimed Harry desperately. “Voldemort can’t be truly dead,” he hesitated before adding, “…because I didn’t kill him.”

“Ah Harry my dear boy,” said Dumbledore kindly as he shook star shaped confetti out of his beard. “I am happy to have spared your soul from such a fate. In the end it was not necessary. Let me explain,” began Dumbledore before being interrupted.

“-but I’m the chosen one!” whined Harry.

This proclamation was met with multiple groans around the table which quickly quieted Harry as his indignation turned to shame.

“But Headmaster,” whispered Harry, “what about the horcruxes?”

“Potter,” sneered Snape. Harry’s reddened checks instantly paled at being addressed directly. “It appears you were so wrapped up in your own fame and self-importance that you neglected to detect any change or weakening in the Dark Lord’s mind. Have you ever even wondered what the connection could mean?”

“Severus,” chided Dumbledore warningly.

“Headmaster, you once told me that the truth was important. That it was a beautiful thing. I need to know how Voldemort was defeated,” interjected Harry boldly

Dumbledore nodded gravely before continuing. “Harry when two people love each other, or three, or however many. Or even when they don’t love each other. People have sex Harry. Do you know what that means?”

More than half of the room’s occupants shielded their faces in second hand embarrassment. Fred and George Weasley wordlessly high fived underneath the table. Meanwhile, Harry sat slack jawed in dumbfounded shock as he nodded at Dumbledore to continue.

“Ah, thank goodness,” said Dumbledore in relief before enlightening Harry on the wonderful power of sexually transmitted diseases and the sexual practices of Lord Voldemort and his followers. By the end of the explanation those sitting closest to Snape had stealthily angled their chairs farther away. Molly Weasley idly vanished piles of vomit from the ground.

“So you’re saying that Voldemort died of syphilis that he was infected with by Snape with a… a... s- sex toy,” clarified Harry hesitantly. “And during that time you destroyed all of the horcruxes,” finished Harry in disbelief.

“Professor Snape, Harry. And yes, that is correct. Really it was rather simple,” answered Dumbledore thoughtfully

“Wicked,” chimed the Weasley twins from across the table.

The majority of the room sat in disbelief, others laughing, and one person even slipping out of the room muttering ‘I better get checked’. When the meeting had finally adjourned members of the Order stood to shake hands and share drinks in celebration. Dumbledore had even recovered the transfigured snake egg from Snape and had charmed it to dance on the table like a spinning top.

After many butterbeers and fire whiskeys had been poured, Dumbledore slung a friendly arm around Harry’s shoulder.

“I forgot to mention Harry,” slurred Dumbledore close to Harry’s ear, “You were the final horcrux!”

“Sir?” replied Harry frantically.

“It’s true,” said Dumbledore who had started to cry. “I held you like an infant in my arms. I cradled a tiny piece of Voldemort’s soul against my chest. The choice of choosing the fate of all over the fate of one. That is what I have saved you from by going on this journey alone. I chose to slay you with a basilisk fang Harry. I hope you can forgive me, although I do not deserve it."

“Of course, sir,” said Harry apprehensively.

“It took a dozen house elves to get the blood out of the carpet Potter,” chimed in Snape casually as he directed Dumbledore towards the floo to return to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was entering his sentimental mode and Snape couldn’t be arsed to remain on damage control.

All was well. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted June 19th 2019. Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

The disbelief, the endless celebrations, and the awards ceremonies had finally drawn to a close. Neither Snape nor Dumbledore had been overly enthralled by being the centre of attention, and both had tolerated their inclusion in such events as a matter of duty. Finally the time had come when Dumbledore and Snape could be permitted to slip away into their old lives, not that either of them intended to do so.

It was 3:00am, a perfectly reasonable time for a secret meeting between Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall in the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore’s office was still alive with sound and crowded with whirling and mystical keepsakes. Despite that, there was a certain absence to be felt.

Snape and Dumbledore sat soundlessly beside two briefcases charmed to hold all their possessions as they waited for McGonagall to arrive. Neither had packed heavily.

Hours earlier Snape had been charming academic journals and heavy leather bound books to fit into his luggage. He hesitated when he reached a small glass doe he had kept on his bookshelf for nearly eighteen years. He lovingly smoothed the dust off it with his fingers before gently placing the tip of his wand against its head and casting a vanishing spell.

At the same time elsewhere in the castle, Dumbledore was collecting and sorting through the array of hidden objects he had stashed under the floorboards, in the walls, taped under furniture, and thrown in the lake attached to bricks over the years. He considered his collection of rave music and pornography thoughtfully before summoning a large manila envelope, enclosing the items, and carefully penning Harry’s name on the front. He packed his cocktail shaker, discarded the fuzzy pink handcuffs he had been keeping for a special occasion, and hesitated when he reached a small stone box that he recently had kept sitting plainly on his desk. The box contained the elder wand and the resurrection stone he had recovered from Gaunt’s ring without telling Snape.

After deliberating for an hour, Dumbledore decided to take the resurrection stone and accompanying ring and apparate back to the muggle bar he had frequented before the start of term. He placed the artefact lovingly in a puddle of urine in the men's room and felt satisfied for having come full circle.

Dumbledore knew it was unwise to allow the Elder wand to exist any further. For that reason he had spent the previous day using its power to solidify protective spells surrounding the school, healing institutions, muggle schools and libraries. He apparated to major bodies of water across the globe to summon and vanish plastic waste, heavy metals, and oil. It was only a quick fifteen minute job to transfigure degrading patches of the ozone layer and to cast cooling charms on melting glaciers. With that swish of the wand he was able to erect water purification systems in developing countries, and to permanently disable muggle nuclear weapons. When he returned home that evening he snapped the Elder wand into seven pieces and took a nap.

At exactly 3:00 am, McGonagall entered the office and regarded Snape and Dumbledore sombrely. She carried two envelopes which contained international port keys that Snape and Dumbledore would activate after they were obliviated. A week prior, both men had agreed to receiving partial oblivation and false memory charms that would allow them to live the remainder of their lives peacefully without any memory of having participated in sex related war crimes. Although both men would have no recollection of their involvement in, or the existence of the Wizarding Wars, both would retain a modified version of their childhoods and wizarding and professional educations. Neither man knew where they would be living, only that it would be safest if they were moved outside of Europe where they would not be recognized.

McGonagall hesitated before sitting in the chair that had been strategically positioned in front of Snape and Dumbledore. She shook the hands of both men before eloping them in a fierce hug. Wiping away the tears that threatened to obscure her vision, she levelled her wand and with a steady motion whispered “ _obliviate_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final two chapters will be posted together on June 21st 2019!


	18. Chapter 18

A middle aged man holding two woven baskets approached a secluded house with a clay tiled roof. His dark features were in sharp contrast with the warm hues of the midday sun over a red stoned canyon. With each long stride up the cobblestone and sand path, glass vials filled with cacti clinked together from within the man’s baskets.

The man entered the house where an overworked air conditioner created beads of condensation that clung to every surface. Despite it being noon, the house was bathed in darkness from speciality curtains that blocked the sunlight. When asked, the man would respond by explaining how ultraviolet radiation could interfere with his brewing practices. In reality, the man found it comforting to keep the house cold and dark, but he couldn’t remember why he preferred this.

Every available space of the small home had been converted into laboratory space for potion brewing. Instead of a bedroom the man opted to sleep underneath his kitchen table on a small cushioned mat. The man was drawn to stone countertops and walls lined with bookshelves. Although his bookshelves were stocked to capacity, the man always felt that something was missing and he couldn’t understand why that thought made him feel sad, as though he had lost something deeply precious.

It had been three months since the man had moved to the desert to research the use of cactus in anti-aging beauty potions. It was his dream to open his own shop and to publish his research in academic journals. Although he was well on his way to achieving these goals, the man felt hollow and unfulfilled. Something about white tumbleweed scattering in the wind reminded the man of a distant memory he was struggling to remember. Every day the man would watch the tumbleweed until finally he realized it looked rather like the beard of a man he once knew.

 

* * *

 

Over 4500 kilometers away, a white bearded man wore a lab coat printed with palm leaves and hibiscus flowers. To complete this look, the older man had adorned his beard with puka shells which were carefully woven in with golden floss.

A radio played from the back room of a shop emitting a fast paced electronic beat. The older man bobbed on his toes as he cleaned the entrance of the magical pharmacy he had opened two months prior. He had moved to the island in search of a peaceful space to continue his research on the medicinal properties of dragon’s blood, but had found the tranquility dull and unnerving.

The older man lived in a spacious two bedroom home along an idyllic waterfront. The older man found the white, crisp, and modern interior of the home to be painfully relaxing and to offset this had taken to filling the home with knick knacks found at tourist shops and garage sales. He had already accumulated an impressive collection of garden gnomes, ceramic figurines, and painted sea shells.

Once home, the older man walked aimlessly around his house as he sucked on a lemon flavoured hard candy. Although he had lived in the home for three months, he rarely inhabited the lower level of the home where the walls were made from stone and the only window was obstructed by a remarkable tropical plant with red and orange flowers. The older man had affectionately named the fiery plant ‘Fawkes,’ a name that felt strangely nostalgic.

Today the older man ventured into the neglected area of his home. He had been avoiding it for months for it gave him a strange sense of longing and sadness that he could not understand. Standing at the threshold, the older man’s attention was caught by a loose floorboard he had not noticed before in the corner of the empty room. With a hesitant hand, the older man loosened the floorboard to reveal a small glass figurine of a doe. Momentarily the older man’s memory flashed with familiarity and he struggled to hold onto a distant moment of wholeness. As quickly as it appeared, the memory slipped away through his grasp like a black cloak in a dark forest.

The older man returned the doe to its home beneath the floorboard, willing himself to believe that the previous tenant had merely forgotten it, rather than believing that the doe had been placed there especially for him.

With a dazed head, and a sense of deep revelation, the older man returned to his study and began to draft an advertisement seeking a roommate to rent one bedroom and work area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very wholesome chapter about our unlikely friends! What did you think?


	19. Chapter 19

They had been exchanging correspondences for two weeks before the older man took down his advertisement and prepared to meet a man by the name of Severus Snape. Like himself, Snape held a Gold Level Mastery in potions and had taught in a private institution for over a decade. In fact, the two seemed so well suited that they agreed to meet in person and discuss the prospect of going into business together.

Snape was travelling from across the country and the older man had arranged to meet him at the island’s international port key centre. As the older man waited in the arrival terminal, he watched as a lanky and serious looking man reluctantly tolerated a garland of flowers being placed around his neck in welcome.

The older man felt hypnotized as he locked eyes with Snape. Both men shared the same bewildered expression as they struggled to place each other. There was an unmistakable connection between them, which both men immediately tried to dismiss through the initiation of an awkward handshake.

“Severus, I presume?” inquired the older men genially as Snape nodded curtly.

“Thank you for meeting with me Professor Dumbledore,” greeted Snape formally.

“Oh call me Albus,” dismissed Dumbledore airily.

“And I must say, island life suits you,” teased Dumbledore good naturedly as he gestured towards Snape’s garland of flowers.

An unseemly blush crept up Snape’s neck before settling in his cheeks. With a glare at the offending flowers he vanished them with a quick jab from his wand. “Indeed,” he replied sarcastically.

“I thought we might discuss business over a walk on the beach. I find the fresh ocean air to be quite invigorating,” commented Dumbledore.

“How romantic,” replied Snape blandly with a hint of amusement.

The man’s crassness would seem rude to most, however to Dumbledore it felt both comical and comforting, as if he was settling back into a routine of bantering with an old friend.

The two left the centre together, Dumbledore conjuring two coconuts with straws and miniature paper umbrellas, and Snape eyeing the beverages suspiciously. After reluctantly accepting the drink from Dumbledore, Snape automatically cast a web of diagnostic spells before bringing the straw to his lips.

“Do you think I would poison you?” chuckled Dumbledore with a bemused expression.

“Old habits,” explained Snape with a shrug.

“Am I to assume people regularly tried to poison you in the past? What an interesting roommate you will make,” replied Dumbledore amusedly.

Snape looked momentarily confused before continuing. “I apologize,” he began sincerely, “I’ve been having lapses in my memory. I feel as though I was in the military, only I can’t recall it.”

There was a pause in the conversation during which Snape looked surprised and embarrassed that he had revealed such a fact. The pair stopped at a piece of driftwood that overlooked the water.

“I understand,” replied Dumbledore seriously as he took a seat on the driftwood. “I’ve been a professor for close to a century, only I can’t recall what institutions I’ve taught at, or any of my pupils.”

“But most peculiar of all,” continued Dumbledore mysteriously, “is that when I met you I felt as though I was struggling to remember something very important. I felt as though I had known you for years, except that I had never met you.”

Snape joined Dumbledore on the driftwood and the two sat in silence as they looked out onto the water.

“I felt the same way,” struggled Snape awkwardly. “For months I have felt like I have been blinding searching for something… and now…”

“It has been found,” concluded Dumbledore thoughtfully.

“It’s strange,” commented Snape in a whisper, “how much we have in common and how I was drawn towards this place.”

“Almost like magic,” suggested Dumbledore alluringly. The two men suddenly became aware of how close they were sitting to each other. Their legs were pressed together against the driftwood and their fingertips were only a grain of sand away.

Snape was the first to close the distance, placing a hand behind Dumbledore’s neck and pulling him in roughly for a desperate kiss. Dumbledore responded enthusiastically, both men searching frantically for what had been lost. Their bodies fell from the driftwood and they become entangled together in the sand. Limbs intertwined, noses and lips and teeth mashed together, and suddenly, so suddenly, everything stopped.

As if receiving an electric shock, both men withdrew and stared at each other mystified before bursting into fits of laughter.

“No, no, that wasn’t right at all was it?” cried Dumbledore in hysterics.

Snape rolled with laughter from where he lay in the sand. Their touch had felt so astoundingly wrong that it was comical. After a batty few minutes he stumbled to his feet and wiped saliva off his face with the back of his hand before offering it in support to Dumbledore.

Both men shared a sly smile. Neither had felt as whole or as free in years.

“Business partners?” proposed Snape with a smile.

“Friends,” agreed Dumbledore as he accepted Snape’s hand.

All was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wholesome ending for a very twisted story! Thank you so much for reading. I would be ecstatic if you took the time to write a review or favourite the story if you enjoyed it. 
> 
> These last two chapters were very challenging to write. It was difficult to imagine how Snape and Dumbledore’s personalities would change if they had been obliviated of all the events that shaped them. In the end I decided to preserve a mellowed out version of our favourite snarky Snape and eccentric Dumbledore.
> 
> Also, I would like to send lots of warmth and thanks to my friend Noa who I thoroughly corrupted while brainstorming this story. You are my egg. Thank you to E for listening to my ideas and helping me make them as fucked up as possible. Finally, thank you to Danielle and Rajvee for reading bits of my story over the last few months and still agreeing to be my friend.


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